


Reunion

by starr_falling



Series: February Ficlets [14]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29456988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starr_falling/pseuds/starr_falling
Summary: Bilbo closed his eyes on his cozy little room in Valinor and opened them on a dimly lit stone chamber.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield
Series: February Ficlets [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139438
Comments: 1
Kudos: 81
Collections: 2021 Prompt Calendar





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: reunion.

Bilbo closed his eyes on his cozy little room in Valinor and opened them on a dimly lit stone chamber.

“What?” he shot upright in surprise. He looked around the bare room, brow furrowed in confusion. “Where am I?”

He slid off the strange stone slab he had awoken on, shivering as his feet meet the cold stone floor. Only then did he realize he wasn’t in pain. He stared down at his feet in wonder. While the light wasn’t good enough to see the hair’s color, it was too dark to be the white he had sported for decades.

“Frodo,” Bilbo called as he held his hands before disbelieving eyes. The knuckles were no longer swollen and gnarled, and they curled and uncurled with ease and without pain. “Frodo, my boy, where are you? I think I’ve well and truly gone mad at last.”

There was no answer. Beginning to worry, Bilbo looked around the strange room, but it still gave him no clues as to what was going on. With no other recourse, he opened the only door and peered out.

The other side of the door was no more enlightening. It opened on a bare stone hallway, devoid of anything save a few widely spaced lights. It seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions, with nothing to distinguish one direction from the other.

Unable to think of anything else to do, he turned right and headed down the hall. He moved with the kind of ease that he hadn’t been able to manage since – since he left the Shire for the last time. He had no idea how it was possible, so he tried to put it out of his mind for the time being. He wouldn’t find answers standing around like a numpty.

It didn’t take Bilbo long to reach the nearest light. There was no flame that he could see; it appeared to be some sort of glowing crystal. Bofur had once told him that dwarrow used such things in the mines.

“Am I in Erebor? But how would I even get there?” he wondered aloud as he examined himself in the odd blue light. He appeared to be wearing the bedclothes he had gone to sleep in, but his skin was no longer thin as parchment and had a healthy glow. He pulled a lock of hair forward to see it was the same sandy blond it had been in his youth. A quick look down confirmed his feet fur was the same.

“What in the name of the Green Lady is going on?” Bilbo asked. There was still no answer, so he did all he could think to do and pressed on.

The only variation in the hallway were the doors set on either side. Every one he opened showed a bare chamber just like the one he had woken in. Were the hallway not utterly straight, he would think he was going in circles.

After a time – one Bilbo could not calculate in the unchanging endless corridor – Bilbo finally spied something different. Some length ahead, the hallway ended in an open doorway. Rich yellow light – candlelight presumably, given the way it flickered – spilled out in welcome.

Bilbo hurried forward, all but throwing himself into the light. He stumbled down a single step and barely caught himself against the end of a counter that ran along the nearest wall. Bilbo blinked dumbly at the group of dwarrow that stared back blankly.

“Bilbo?” a voice he thought he’d never hear again spoke. “Bilbo, is that really you?”

Thorin Oakenshield stood from the table where the dwarrow sat. Bilbo stared at him in disbelief, swallowing the urge to burst into tears.

“Thorin?” he croaked. Thorin’s eyes widened, and he rushed around the table to catch Bilbo as he stumbled forward. “How is this possible? How can you be here? You – you died.”

“I know,” Thorin said as he guided Bilbo to a hastily vacated chair. “I’m here _because_ I died. These are the Halls of Awaiting.”

Bilbo sat down heavily. “Oh,” he said. He felt quite stupid for not figuring it out sooner. “I didn’t just fall asleep. I died.”

“I suppose you must have,” Thorin said gently. “Otherwise, why would you be here?”

Bilbo looked upon the dear face that he hadn’t hoped to ever see again, even after death.

“But why am I _here_?” Bilbo asked. “I’m just a simple hobbit, why would I be in the halls set aside for dwarrow?”

“I do not know,” Thorin said and cupped Bilbo’s face gently. His hands were so large and warm. “But whatever the reason, I am glad you are here.”

“Oh,” Bilbo closed his eyes as Thorin pulled him forward. Their lips touched, barely a brush, but more than they’d ever shared in life. He pulled back and looked into eyes he would gladly lose himself in until the remaking of the world.


End file.
